


force of attraction

by rhysgore



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Bondage, Canonical Character Death, Erotic Electrostimulation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Massage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Snuff, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wound Fucking, kind of, monsoon's weird magnet bod, most of the terrible stuff is in the second chapter, overly erotic stabbing, robot gore, somewhat headcanon heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 16:38:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12634959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: #144: "anything involving Monsoon with Raiden and/or Jetstream Sam, please i need that #content"1. sam/monsoon. an arrangement.2. raiden/monsoon. robot goreporn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ezra Shape (betweentheteeth.tumblr.com)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ezra+Shape+%28betweentheteeth.tumblr.com%29).



Monsoon couldn’t really see him, not like he’d used to be able to. The visor strapped over his head, wires connected to the severed ends of his optical nerves, gave him a decent enough view, but it was designed more for combat efficacy. Designed to capture the quick, potentially fatal movements of an enemy, rather than admiring how sweat trickled off of Sam’s brow, how his chest moved up and down as he panted, how his muscles tightened and stretched as he struggled to keep himself upright.

 

He couldn’t really  _ feel _ Sam either. His body had pressure sense, yes, but his resistance to getting artificial skin meant the nuances of physical sensation were reduced to a few square inches of nerve endings, all centered around his face. His cheeks, his nose, his lips, along his jaw- nothing that was particularly useful when it came to reaching out to touch another person. If he had been one for kissing, perhaps it would have been adequate, but he was far too old and bitter to indulge in such sentimental gestures.

 

As for  _ fucking _ Sam, well. He made do.

 

“Such fascinating reactions your body produces.” Perched precariously on his lap, thighs straining at the awkward angle they’d been folded into, Sam didn’t reply beyond a soft grunt. His arms were bound behind him- the metal one was locked into place, disabled temporarily by Monsoon’s electromagnets, and the flesh one was tied to it with a length of silk. “Always so desperate when you come to see me, even after only a week. I’m beginning to think I overestimated your level of patience.”

 

As he talked, two of his fingers, detached from his hand, pressed deeper into Sam’s ass. The rest of the same hand- palm, thumb, pinkie, and ring finger- wrapped around the drooling length of Sam’s cock. Not moving, merely gripping him lightly, noting the way Sam’s shaft throbbed. 

 

“I- mm- I have to deal with  _ you  _ on a regular basis. I think that makes me plenty patient,” Sam gasped, hips bucking as the Monsoon deliberately rubbed a finger against his prostate. Although his body was made of metal, Monsoon was far from cold- the constant flow of electricity ensured not only that, but that every part of him buzzed slightly too, producing a pleasant vibrating sensation that intensified whenever Monsoon increased the magnetic flow in a particular part of himself.

 

“Perhaps the problem is something else, then.” Monsoon hummed softly as his other hand moved down Sam’s chest, tracing over the line of his left pectoral. He pinched a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger until it was stiff under his fingertips. 

 

Whether or not Sam was impatient, Monsoon was right about one thing. It  _ had _ only been a week since last they’d done this, and Sam was already as tightly wound enough that even the smallest stimulation had him hissing and writhing in Monsoon’s lap. A metal thumb pressed against the head of his cock, and he let out a choked sob.

 

“Don’t tease me,” Sam murmured, head falling forwards onto his chest. His face was a delightful shade of red, a combination of arousal and embarrassment at the fact that getting a reaction out of him was so easy. 

 

“Such a tawdry display.” Monsoon’s hand gripped his cock painfully tight, but the sensation just made Sam buck his hips harder, desperate for more stimulation, even if it hurt. Inside of him, the two detached fingers rubbed him roughly, and Sam moaned, cock twitching and oozing. “Of course, I’m not surprised in the slightest by you acting this shamefully,  _ especially _ towards me.”

 

He could tell by the way that Sam immediately stiffened that he’d struck a nerve. Monsoon didn’t give him a moment to respond, however, scratching his free hand down Sam’s sternum, raking red lines underneath thick chest hair, into his skin. At the same time, he pulled at Sam’s shaft, starting to stroke him in small, harsh movements.

 

“You’re a desperate, hungry slut. But you’re  _ mine. _ Aren’t you?”

 

“No-” Sam’s body curled, spine bending backwards as Monsoon pressed against his prostate, sending electric jolts of pleasure through him. Literally, as Monsoon increased the power of his electromagnets. “Don’t belong to you.”

 

A smile twitched at Monsoon’s lips. The hand on Sam’s chest floated back up to his neck, a light but insistent weight around the column of his throat.

 

“Don’t you? Tell me then- why do you keep coming back?” The two fingers inside of Sam vibrated harder, not giving Sam a moment to respond. “It isn’t because you find me pleasant company, surely. I belittle you. I mock you. I’m a  _ tease,  _ as you aptly put it. If you wanted a proper fuck, the way normal people do, I have no doubt you would go elsewhere. Handsome and  _ easy _ is a combination that would get you as much cock as you wanted. If all you wanted was a physical pleasure, you could just use your hand. And yet, here you are- fucking me, rather than any of your other multitude of options.”

 

He squeezed Sam’s throat lightly, noting the way it made Sam squirm, cock dripping more with every passing moment.

 

“Do you want to know why that is?”

 

“Your… c-charming personality, I’m sure.” On some level, Monsoon respected Sam’s ability to keep up the thin veneer of sarcasm, despite how his body was straining for release. “Or m-maybe your-  _ fuck- _ your tendency towards stoic silence.”

 

“Funny, but neither of those are quite the truth. You do an excellent job deflecting from the fact that you hate yourself so much that you don’t believe you deserve better.”

 

Sam made a pained choking noise, eyes widening. He opened his mouth to respond, but Monsoon tugging the head of his cock sharply caused the words to die in his throat. 

 

“You only feel alive when you’re fighting or fucking. Out there, risking your life in the hopes that one day you’ll encounter someone who will be strong enough to put you out of your misery, or here, with me, being told what a worthless, broken thing you are. You’re only satisfied when you’re hurting, aren’t you?” 

 

“No-”

 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ deny it. Look at your cock, and tell me that you’re not the pathetic, masochistic whore I say you are.”

 

It hurt- both the rough way he was being treated, and the way Monsoon was addressing something he’d been trying his best to keep hidden- but he was still hard. Still wanting. Sam felt more exposed than he’d ever been, like an open nerve, raw and throbbing. Having his prostate essentially fingerfucked was making him half crazy, driving him up to the edge of the precipice.

 

Of course, Monsoon chose that moment to completely still himself, reducing the stimulation Sam was getting down to the soft, constant buzz of his limbs,  _ nothing _ compared to what it had been only moments before. Sam whimpered, shifting his hips in desperation, trying to rut against the half of a hand holding his cock, to no avail.

 

“You come to me because it’s your one alternative to taking up your sword again and hacking your way through this place again until someone cuts you down for good. You  _ need  _ it.” Monsoon’s head had floated forwards to whisper conspiratorially in Sam’s ear. “To tell you the truth, I prefer you alive. Aside from being a valuable ally, you’re one of the more interesting things to happen around here in a long time. But if you want me to give you what you want, you need to tell me what that  _ truly _ is.”

 

“I-” Sam swallowed, feeling his throat bob against Monsoon’s metal palm. It hadn’t felt like a burden until just that moment, and now it was an unpleasant, suffocating weight against him. “- want-”

 

He hesitated, staring shamefacedly at the wall.

 

“What, Sam?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Sam shuddered.  _ “I don’t want to think anymore,”  _ he said, a quiet plea. “Don’t make me. I can’t, I-” Swallowing hard again, Sam cut himself off before he admitted anything else. He closed his eyes as Monsoon smiled at him, fey and cruel. 

 

“Yes, I can  _ definitely _ help you with that.”

 

The metal digits inside him started to vibrate again, harder and harder, little sparks jolting against Sam’s prostate, making him jerk and twitch. He moaned, loud enough to drown out the sound of his own thoughts as the hand circling his cock started to stroke him again. Monsoon’s other hand traveled downwards, cupping his balls, squeezing them a little harder than was perhaps strictly necessary. It didn’t seem to matter to Sam, though- with every movement, his body jerked, like a puppet whose strings Monsoon was tugging on.

 

Every noise and movement Sam made just further proved Monsoon right. Regardless of if what was happening to him was pleasurable or painful, he reacted all the same. His hips twitched, he made broken little noises, he humped Monsoon’s hand, deliberately rutting against the sharp edges where the joints of Monsoon’s fingers connected to each other, scraping his shaft raw and red until he climaxed with a hollow sob.

 

Monsoon had few means left to feel physical sensation, and in truth, even when he’d had a functioning set of genitalia at his disposal, he’d been largely uninterested in chasing the the carnal pleasure that Sam craved. That wasn’t to say he didn’t get anything out of doing this for Sam. The empty look on Sam’s face, the way that powerful body went limp as soon as he came- those sort of reactions were as satisfying to Monsoon as a hundred orgasms. He watched, smirking, as Sam rode his out, panting and whining as his cock spurted white all over Monsoon’s titanium approximation of a stomach. He watched the poor man come down, eyes still haunted, like he wanted to cry, but was too exhausted for even that.

 

When Sam’s hips stilled, Monsoon withdrew his fingers. He removed the cloth tying Sam’s arms together. The prosthetic one fell limply at Sam’s side before he regained control of it, moving the fingers one by one to ensure they were still functional. Once he’d finished, he rubbed his other wrist, getting the blood circulating back into his hand. He didn’t slide off of Monsoon’s lap until he’d finished, joints in his legs audibly complaining at how long they’d been forced into such an uncomfortable position.

 

His clothes were scattered every which way. As he retrieved them, tugging them on to his sore, sweaty body, Sam was tempted to ask if he could stay.

 

“I will… see you around,” he said instead, swallowing.

  
Monsoon smiled at him, wryly. “Come back the next time you have something on your mind. I’m sure I’ll be able to find  _ some _ way to help you with it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHHH this is where all of the content warnings (minus suicidal thoughts) come in. im so sorry for what i put you through, mo

Was this how it felt to die?

 

He laid on his back, staring up at the dark sky. There was a monster on his stomach, pinning him into the pavement.

 

“Come  _ on,”  _ it taunted him, lips spread wide in a feral smile, drooling onto his face, thick droplets that could only be distinguished from the rain around them due to the fact that it was warm. “Is that  _ all?  _ I’m not  _ nearly  _ satisfied yet.”

 

There was something in his chest. Monsoon couldn’t exactly feel it- he wasn’t sure if it was due to his pain inhibitors overcompensating, or a side effect of the numb, leaden feeling that was beginning to seep into his entire body, but it didn’t hurt to have a HF blade embedded through his sternum, all the way to the concrete underneath. It didn’t even hurt when the monster pulled it out to just the razor sharp tip, before pushing it back in, letting out a wild, hiccupping laugh.

 

“I know you’ve got more in you. Don’t be so- fucking-  _ pathetic!” _ The sword was thrust in and out of his chest with each word, rough and messy, extending the jagged edge of the gash that had already been cut there. Every new wound made him bleed out faster, red fluid diluting in the puddle of rainwater collecting around his body.

 

“Ja- c- k-” he wheezed hoarsely, every sound in the name a struggle to get out with the damage that had been done to his artificial voice box. “Just… kill… me…”

 

Jack’s red eyes widened, then narrowed in a way that would have been almost comical had he not been in the process of tearing Monsoon’s body apart.

 

“What’s wrong? Am I not good enough for you? Don’t go cold fish on me  _ now.”  _ Tearing his sword out of Monsoon’s chest, Jack leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing against the bottom edge of the visor. His hands, those long, sharp talons, wormed their way into the wound on Monsoon’s chest, fingers prying at the edges. “Don’t you want me  _ inside of you?” _

 

The shrieking of titanium echoed as Jack rended it apart, exposing the wires and circuits and artificial veins under the armor of Monsoon’s body. He buried his hands in the mess of it all, giggling in delight as electromagnetic power tingled up his arms.

 

“Oh, that feels  _ amazing,”  _ Jack gasped, words slurring into each other, and Monsoon’s lips curled in distaste at the blatant arousal in his voice, at the way his hips slid over Monsoon’s body, despite the uselessness of the gesture. Even if Jack’s body couldn’t function in that sort of way, it was still disgusting. Those wandering, shredding hands had reached deep enough to grope the metal and wire of his artificial spinal cord, shuddering at every pulse of electricity. “Shit- hhah, oh _ god- fuck me-” _

 

Monsoon wasn’t even sure if Jack could come, but the cyborg put forth his best effort anyway, moaning loud and unashamed as he chased any feeling of pleasure he could get. This was rape, wasn’t it? Jack was senselessly violating him, uncaring of whether he wanted his body to be used or not, uncaring of whether or not Monsoon was consenting to be opened up and have his life force used as an e-stim toy, uncaring of anything but how good it felt to rut like an animal. By the time the electricity winked and faded away, Jack was blissed out, his entire form coated in artificial blood, and the body of something that was once a man was a ripped to shreds underneath him, life long since leaked out and washed away with the pouring rain.


End file.
